


And What's Your Name?

by wth_am_i_writing



Category: VIXX
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, fanboy!Hongbin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-24 12:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17100698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wth_am_i_writing/pseuds/wth_am_i_writing
Summary: Poor kid, he probably wouldn’t make it. The odds were just too against him.





	And What's Your Name?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on July 16, 2014.
> 
> Original Author’s Note: An anon asked for “fan!Hongbin and reader” and left the genre up to me. I got this and the other requests on my list foreeeever ago. Honestly this one stumped me for the longest time and then I just decided sit down and write something simple and short, and this was the result. I guess some of my feelings on the industry kinda leaked in on this one, but oh well xD; I also ended up being productive enough to get two fics up today, wonder of wonders! Anyway, enjoy~

“And what’s you name?” you asked in a bubbly tone, taking the album from the boy without really looking at him.

“H-hongbin,” he stuttered, voice deeper than you’d expected out of such a young boy. You looked up at him with a smile and realized he wasn’t quite as young as you thought he was. He had a deliriously goofy grin on his face, bright and angelic and dimpled.

“Hongbin? That name doesn’t sound familiar. Is it your first time?” you asked brightly. It’d been a long day and you were beyond tired, but this fansign was the last thing on your schedule for the day, then it was a three hour car ride out to the hotel you’d be filming at for the drama you’d been cast in. But until then, you had to force a smile for the fans that kept you afloat and somewhat relevant in the media.

“Uh, y-yeah, It’s my first time at a fansign,” he answered, doe-eyed and trembling. You widened your smile and looked back down at the album he’d handed you. You opened the photobook to the page that you were designated to sign. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught his hands fidgeting.

“No wonder you’re nervous. I hope next time we meet you won’t be so nervous, I’m not scary,” you teased, carefully writing his name out on the page.

“Noona, the next time we meet, I hope it’s back stage at a music show or on a drama set. I’m debuting in a group in three months,” he blurted out as you signed your stage name on the picture.

“Oh? You’re debuting?” you asked, stopping halfway through your name to look up at him again in surprise, hoping that his interest in you ended in professional admiration rather than delusional desire. How many times had you heard things like that from your fans now?

“Yes,” he answered, clenching and unclenching his hands nervously. “In three months.” Another hopeful boy, you thought in dismay. So many groups were debuting this year, and most group’s track records weren’t good to begin with. The chances he’d fizzle out and not even get any time in the limelight were high.

“What’s the group’s name? I’ll keep an ear out for you.” If you remembered it.

“It’s not decided yet, but I’m practically guaranteed a spot in the final line up,” he replied quickly, noticing the staff encroaching on him. You looked back down at the album and finished signing, writing ‘debut fighting’ with a small heart after it for good measure.

“Well, if we ever promote at the same time, come greet me, ok?” you encouraged, handing back his album with a big smile. You knew that if he really managed to debut and his group managed to survive until the next song you promoted, you wouldn’t be able to recognize him for all the stylists would do to him.

“Thank you, Noona! I will!” he chimed happily, clutching the album to his chest and smiling so wide you thought his face would break in two. Maintaining your professional smile, you held your hand out for the obligatory highfive.

“Debut fighting!” you encouraged as he met your hand.

“Thank you!” he repeated, bowing slightly before moving off to your left to return to his seat. You watched him for a second before turning back to your right to take the album out of the next young man’s hands. You just hoped that Hongbin boy really understood what he was getting himself into.

“And what’s your name?” you asked in the same bubbly tone you had asked the boy and every other fan before him. Just ten more and the question and answer session and you could clonk out in the van.


End file.
